“‘Me?’ says Hank. ‘I don’t want to talk to no preacher!’ “‘I don’t want you to talk to him,’ says Tildy. ‘I want him to talk to you,’ and she walked out the door. When Hank heard her slam the gate behind her, he hollered like the house was afire. “‘Oh, Tildy!’ She come back to the door and looked in. “‘Why, Tildy,’ says Hank, pitiful as a baby, ‘you don’t aim to make me the laughin’-stock of the settlement, do you?’ “‘I don’t see why you need to bother about that,’ says Tildy. ‘If it’s no disgrace to git drunk, and gamble, and fight, in a corner grocery, it’s no disgrace to talk to a minister of the gospel.’ She started out again, but Hank called her back. “‘Hold on, Tildy; I’ll agree to anything you say, if you won’t call in the preacher.’ “‘What you goin’ to do about them circulars I got printed?’ she asked. “‘Why, I’m goin’ down there and maul the life out of old Goatwhiskers for printin’ them things,’ says Hank. Tildy started out again, and he yelled after her to come back. Promised he wouldn’t say a word to him. “‘What are you goin’ to say to the boys you had the fight with?’ “‘Fight!’ says Hank. ‘It wasn’t no fight. The whole crowd lit into me and mauled me most to death, and I hadn’t said a word.’ “‘I understand you knocked ’em all down with a cheer, if that’s any satisfaction to you,’ says Tildy. “‘All right, then,’ says Hank, ‘I’m willin’ to call it square, if they are.’ “‘Not goin’ to say a word to nobody about nothin’?’ she asked. “‘Not a word,’ says he. “‘Not goin’ to drink any more?’ “‘Not a drop, Tildy. Now, come on and cut this devilish thing off. I feel like I’ll die if it stays on me another minute.’ Tildy couldn’t think of nothin’ more he could promise, so finally she cut the bastin’ threads and let him loose. Well, sir, he didn’t say a word out of the way to them boys that beat ’em up, and he wouldn’t even take a few drinks to taper off, and it’s my opinion,” said old Eli, solemnly, “that he wouldn’t drink a drop of liquor, right now, if he was bit by a snake.” They were driving into Jonesboro when the old man finished his story, and the big town clock struck four. “Great guns!” cried Hodges in amazement, “it’s four o’clock!” “Egzackly,” said Eli, with an air of innocent triumph. “I’ve drove over this road so often, I can time the trip to a minute. You said you wanted to be here egzackly at four o’clock—” “Four devils!” Hodges yelled. “I said four hours! I’m two hours late. I’ll have to stay in this jay town a whole day!” “My, my!” exclaimed old Eli. “Somebody’s made a terrible mistake. I do hope I wasn’t in no way to blame for it. Now, if you’d just mentioned that you was behind time, I could easy have put them grays through two hours earlier.”